The John Connor Chronicles: Aftershocks
by Nitebreaker
Summary: John and Cameron are back from the future Apocalypse, but now the real struggle begins. Have things changed between them? If so, how will they cope with such changes? Sequel to "The John Connor Chronicles." Jameron, of course. Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

The John Connor Chronicles: Aftershocks

Chapter 1: Adjustments.

…

 _I don't own the Terminator franchise. Okay? We clear? Good. Onward._

…

"Derek, that's enough." Sarah's voice carried in the confined space of the SUV. "That's about the hundredth time you've said John made a bad decision. Enough of it, already." She was driving them back to the house they were currently calling their home.

"Well, you know it's true," said Derek, glancing sideways at Cameron, who was watching him very carefully. John had refused to destroy her when he had the chance…and Derek was being very vocal about his opinion on the matter. "I don't care what she 'promised,' _she is a machine._ And, moreover, she's a _Terminator._ They're not called that for no reason!"

"Uncle Derek." John's voice also carried in the confined space. "Let it drop. Just…let it drop, okay? It's done. Over with."

Back at the house, Sarah parked the SUV in the garage, waiting until the automatic doors had closed. Then she got her pistol, made sure it was loaded, and grabbed two extra magazines. "I'll go run a check. The rest of you wait here."

"Let me go," said Cameron, starting to open her door.

" _No._ I'll go. Derek, you stay here with them. If I'm not back in ten minutes, get them out of here."

"Got it," grumbled Derek, obviously unhappy. But he understood her reasoning: she didn't trust Cameron, and wanted Derek in the car in case Cameron suddenly decided to implement her "terminate" program. Of the two of them, she knew Derek would be the most alert, and the most capable of stopping a murderous Cameron.

The silence in the car was so intense that Derek coughed, not because he needed to, but just to make some kind of sound.

Sarah reappeared at the doorway, signaling them to come in. They filed out, with John waiting for Cameron to go into the house, and Derek bringing up the rear. "John," said his mother, "I think we need to talk."

John's bedroom: "Okay, I guess I'll start it off. Why, John? I think we can both agree that what you did does need some explaining."

He sat by her on the bed. "Mom…I'm honestly not sure why I did it. I, I just knew…I couldn't pull the plug on her, that's all."

"You _do_ know she's a Terminator, right? Not a girl. She's a machine, John. That's what makes her so dangerous."

"I know, mom, and I know you don't approve of what I did-*"

"I didn't say that," Sarah Conner replied evenly. "I asked you _why_ you felt you had to do what you did."

He looked at her in surprise. His mother had been on the run from the killer robots for his entire life. "You…think I did the right thing?"

"I didn't say _that_ , either. I did want you to tell me your reasons for not destroying her. Right before you yourself pulled her chip she was telling you she loved you, and that you loved her. Is that true? On your part, I mean."

"Do I love her? Mom, I'm not crazy. She's a machine, like you said…" But he didn't sound very convincing, even to himself.

 _He does love her. This complicates things._ "Alright. I suppose that'll have to do, for now." _Especially as long as you're in denial about your real feelings._ "But I think it only makes common sense for us to be careful, don't you?"

"Yeah. I know. Mom, I…I can't get her out of my mind. I mean, was that just a Terminator trick? Or…or was she telling the truth?" She saw the confused boy he was right then, and silently cursed SkyNET and all Terminators in general, that they should put her boy through these trials.

But she had to admit, he could easily be going through the exact same trials with a human girl. The Terminators were cybernetic copies of human beings, after all. She knew that women occasionally—make that often-played to a man's feelings, especially for personal gain. And, back in that garage, Cameron had been begging for her life. Of course she'd say anything…just like a human would. "John. I know you won't want to hear this, but you know she's lied to you—to us all—in the past. She _is_ a machine, after all, and she can only do what she's programmed to do. They don't have any human sense of morality. I know you want me to tell you differently, but the odds are against it." He looked so downcast that she put her arm around him. "John, look. I don't know what's going on here. Obviously, something went wrong with her programming, or she wouldn't have come after you like that. And something else is _still_ going on, or she wouldn't have relented. Machines, after all, are consistent. You may not like this comparison, but if your car works one way on Sunday and another on Monday, without you doing anything to it in the meantime, then something's clearly askew. So until we know more, we'll have to consider her as being on probation. It would be stupid to do any less."

He sighed. "I know, mom. I know."

Cameron's room: Sarah entered cautiously. The T-715 sat on the edge of her ( _its_ ) bed, apparently waiting for her. "Cameron. We have some things to discuss."

"Yes, Sarah. I know."

"I'll bet you do." _Be calm, Sarah. This is not a human girl, who acted rashly or emotionally. She's a Terminator, and whatever she did, it had to be a part of her programming, in some way. In a way, she's really not to blame for that._ "Suppose we start off with you telling me what happened to you. Why did you try to kill John?"

Cameron looked up at her, and Sarah was struck by how _human_ she seemed. It was a near-perfect imitation. "I don't know. The last thing I remember is the explosion at the traffic light. Then…I have no memory of anything until I was reactivated, and saw John holding a gun on me. I wondered why." She looked away, as though remembering. "He asked me if I was going to kill him. The 'terminate' order was present in my programming, on my head's-up display. But something happened. Something overrode it. And…I am not sure what.

"I have run multiple diagnostics on myself, trying to ascertain the reason for the gap in my memory, or why the 'terminate' command should suddenly become active. The results have been…indeterminate. There are lines of code in my matrix that I cannot account for." She looked back at Sarah. "I tried to kill John?"

"Yes. Before that, when you were pinned between two vehicles, and John was about to pull your chip, you begged him not to. You said you loved him, and that he loved you. You put him through a horrible experience, Cameron. He's still a bit traumatized."

Cameron was silent. Then, "Why did you let him reactivate me? It would seem more logical to destroy me, as I gathered you were going to."

"He surprised us, and pulled a gun on us, Cameron. That was just before you rebooted. And he's still not too sure why he did that. But I am."

Cameron stared at her for a minute. Sarah could have sworn that the machine was shocked by what she'd said. "He pulled a gun on you? Why?"

"To keep us from destroying you."

"But why would he not-*"

"Because," Sarah said, smoothly overriding Cameron's statement, "my son is in love with you. You know this. I know this. Derek knows this. The only person who doesn't know is John. And the only reason he doesn't know it is because he's basically in denial.

"And, in all fairness, it wouldn't be any different if you were totally biological, Cameron. Boys his age, when confronted with feelings they aren't fully comfortable with, tend to deny they have them. So, yeah, he's gonna say no way, he's not in love with you. Of course he'll say that.

"But I know better."

Cameron looked down at her hands. Sarah wondered where the T-715 had picked up that gesture. "I understand your concerns. I'll leave, and I'll make sure that he will be unable to find-*"

"Cameron. That wasn't what I was saying at all. The whole point of this conversation has been me trying to determine how you feel about my son." She came over and sat by Cameron. "For the record, I don't…completely disapprove of his love for you."

Cameron looked at Sarah with what could only be described as a kind of startlement. "I don't understand."

"Good."

…..

"Can't buh- _leeve_ you," said Derek. He was currently chopping up lettuce for a salad. Sarah thought his chops were a little too enthusiastic. That head of lettuce had never done him any harm. "You basically gave the green light for that _thing_ to, to…" He couldn't finish. The two were in the kitchen, preparing dinner.

"I didn't give anybody any green lights. I told Cameron we'd need to run our own diagnostics, since even she isn't sure what happened. And she completely agrees. And I told her to stay away from John, until we can figure out what happened. She completely agrees with that, too."

Derek just shook his head as he continued to chop. That was going to be one very finely chopped salad, thought Sarah. "I thought you were smarter than that. Don't you see what's happening? Yeah, okay: the kid's in love with the metal. Just like she planned all along, I'm sure. And then when we least expect it…"

"She's had ample opportunities before, Derek. I'm fairly sure this was an accident. Something happened to her programming…"

"It's not _her_ programming that I'm worried about. It's _his._ He's a teenager. He's thinking with his glands. And yeah, the form that metal's wearing is hot. That's not coincidence. I mean, if you were going to program a killbot to assassinate him, could you do a better job?"

"I certainly could. Derek, if Cameron's been sent here to kill John, then she's remarkable inept at it. I mean, she's been with us for what? Two years now? And he's still alive. She's even saved his life on occasion. So either she's abysmally incompetent—or she's really programmed to protect him. Or…maybe there's some other factor at work."

"And he's falling in love with her. Good God, Sarah, you can't tell me you _approve_ of that!"

"Not saying I do or I don't. But, just for the record, let's see." Sarah stood up from the sink, washing her hands. She leaned back against the counter and began to count off on her fingers. "There was Stacy, two years ago. She thought he had money. Remember how heartbroken he was when she dumped him? She wasn't even very nice about it. Then there was Rhonda. I thank God every night that didn't go anywhere. HIV is nothing to sneeze at. Then there was-*"

"Okay, okay, I get it. You don't have to be a killer robot to be dangerous. But she's unstable! If I woke up one morning and tried to kill _you,_ then passed out, woke up, and had changed my mind, wouldn't you break the sound barrier getting away from this crazy person? _I_ would. And we're talking about a crazy _Terminator_ here. Yeah, organics can be just as dangerous, but she's an unnecessary risk! _How can you not see that?_ "

 _Because she's necessary to me._ "Derek. It doesn't matter. What I've said-*"

"Sarah?" Cameron had appeared in the doorway, dressed her usual jeans and top. "Can we begin the diagnostics?"

"Awfully eager to have your brain poked," Derek snorted

Cameron turned to him. "I believe the expression is, 'I should have my head examined.' In my case, that's the literal truth."

Sarah watched the conversation between them. Cameron did seem a bit on edge. "We'll set up after dinner, Cameron. But I am curious: like Derek said, you seem awfully ready for this. I can't help but wonder why?"

"Because," said Cameron, with absolutely no change of expression whatsoever, "I believe I may be insane."

Derek and Sarah looked at each other.

….

Later: John had joined them as they laid out the instruments they'd use to diagnose Cameron. "Now, tell me again, Cameron. Why did you say you might be insane?"

Cameron was lying on the table. To John, it looked like she was so…helpless. _Face it, John. You care about her._ He'd made it a point to be there. He didn't trust Derek around a vulnerable Cameron. Derek's antagonism towards "the metal" was the stuff of legends. It would be really easy for him to "slip."

"Because I find myself remembering things that did not actually happen, things that are physically impossible. At first, I thought they were implanted memories, inserted into my memory core. But every diagnostic I am able to run says they are mine and that they are genuine.

"But they could not have transpired. They were impossible. So I am having memories that cannot be true, yet are mine. Is this not the definition of insanity with humans?"

"Mm…sometimes. I-*"

"Is one of them, by any chance," John spoke up. "Standing on empty space thousands of miles above the Earth? With me?"

She turned her head towards him. He found himself unable to look away from her gaze. There was something there, something that hadn't ever been there before. "How…did you know?"

"Because," he said, turning to the other two, " _I was there._ I'm remembering that, too. And it's physically impossible. But that's what I remember. And it's not a dream, not some figment of my imagination. It's _real._ I couldn't tell you how I know that in a million years, but I _know._ "

Derek looked them both over, suspicion evident on his face. "Power of suggestion, kid. You heard about it from her, now you're 'remembering' the same thing. It happens."

"Derek…you have a false filling in the back of your left wisdom tooth. You originally had it put there in order to hold a cyanide pill, that you'd use if you were ever captured by SkyNET.

"You never told anybody about it. But the filling's there. Am I right?"

Derek's mouth dropped open, then closed, resolutely. "Okay. _That's_ a little freaky."

"I know that because I _remember._ I _just know._ There's no other word for it." He turned to Cameron, still lying there on the table, looking at him. "So run all the diagnostics you want. I think you'll find out there's nothing wrong with her."

One hour later: "Okay," said Sarah, wiping her wrist across her brow. It was hot, and she was sweating. "That's the most we can do with this equipment. And you were right, John. We can't find anything wrong with her."

"But there _must_ be something wrong with me!" Cameron's normally calm voice held a note of near-desperation. "It's impossible to remember events that could not have happened!"

"Cameron." John came over and took her hand. Her fingers closed gently over his, though Sarah received the impression that she wasn't even aware of having done so. She repressed a resigned smile, while Derek shifted uneasily. "It's real. I don't know how it's real, but it is. Don't strain yourself trying to figure it out. Perhaps the answer will come, but if it doesn't, it doesn't."

"But…if my programming is faulty, I could be a danger to you, or the others. That is unacceptable. Logically, you should destroy me."

"First time I've ever agreed with a metal," muttered Derek. Sarah fixed him with a hard glance.

John's fingers tightened around hers. "That will never happen. Never. Derek?" His uncle looked up, startled, at the sound of his name. "I want that made clear. Cameron is not to be harmed. As far as I'm concerned, she's as much a part of us as you are. Is that understood?" This was General Conner talking, not teenage John.

Derek grunted. "Yes, sir." The words sounded like they had to be pulled out of him with pliers. "The metal is-*"

"And I don't want her referred to as 'the metal' anymore. That's tactical as well as polite. You might slip sometime, and use the term in public, or where it could be overheard. That would be awkward, at the very least, and could constitute a security breach. A breach we don't need. So it's 'Cameron,' or 'she,' or 'her,' or whatever other term would apply to any organic female. Got it?" Again, Derek grunted assent.

Sarah stood up. "John. I think it's time we had a talk." She glanced at Cameron, and then at Derek. "In private."

"I think we need to, too, mom."

…

"Okay," said Sarah, once she and John were in her bedroom. She sat on the edge of her bed, propping herself on her arms, crossing her legs, and looked up at him. "Let's talk.

"I think it's pretty obvious what's happening, John. And I think you know. Or do you?"

He nodded, standing there by the door. Now he moved inward a bit, towards the dresser. "Yeah. I'm falling in love with her, mom. Or…I already have."

Sarah was silent for a moment, taking it all in. In truth, she wasn't surprised. Dismayed, yes, but surprised, no. "John. She's a machine. You know that. She's no more capable of love than a refrigerator."

He shook his head. "That's where you're wrong, mom. There's more to her than just gears and microchips. You've seen how she acts, how she's done. She's been a part of our family, just as much as Derek is. She's a _person,_ mom. Whether or not you want to admit that, it's true."

Sarah was silent for a long moment. "Okay. We won't argue about that…for now. So…now what? We'll have to move soon, anyway. So…you want our new cover story to be….what? The two of you…what?

"What do you want us to say, John?

"What will you say, yourself?

"And most importantly of all, what will you say _to_ yourself?"

…..

Later: Cameron was sitting in her room, feeling despondent. She still didn't know what was wrong with her, but whatever it was, it seemed to be contagious.

How could John have the same memories that she did? Especially ones that indicated physically impossible events? There was no logic to it, no rational explanation. Memories…programming could be relayed from one memory core to another—in a Terminator. But Terminator memories, programming, couldn't be transferred to an organic, at least, not that she knew of. But what bothered her the most was what Sarah had said, about her trying to kill John, then begging him to spare her, saying she loved him….

….if she'd been trying to hurt him, to scar him emotionally, she couldn't have done a better job.

Maybe she had been.

There was a knock on the door. Without knowing how she knew, she knew it was _him._ "Go away!"

"No, Cameron. I'm not going away." He opened the door, a bit slowly, but once he saw that she was fully dressed, he opened it the rest of the way. "We have to talk."

"No, we do not." She fled into the room's restroom, and he heard the _click_ of the door as it locked. "Now go away!"

"Cameron. Come on out. You know we have to talk about this sooner or later."

"I know no such thing. Sarah has ordered me to stay away from you, and that is a wise decision. I cannot be trusted. You should leave.

"Cameron. Come out of there."

There was a click as the doorknob turned. A very reluctant Cameron emerged from the bathroom, as though dragged out, and stood just outside the door, like she felt the need for a defensible position to fall back to. "Cameron. Listen to me." He remained where he was, at the door to her room. "I just want to say one thing: I love you. That's it. That's all I had to say. For now, anyway."

"You can _not_. I'm a machine, John Conner. You cannot love me. I am dangerous to you.

"And I cannot love you, for the same reason. I do not love you."

He lifted his head, his expression not changing. "Cameron, I'm giving you a direct order: tell me the truth.

"Do you love me?"

There was a long, long pause. Cameron was visibly fighting the command. Then, "You are my superior officer and my programmer. I am programmed to accept any and all orders from you, as long as they do not conflict with my primary core programming to preserve and protect your life. If you order me to love you, then of course I will."

"That isn't what I asked you."

She looked away. "I…I cannot answer that question."

"Yes, you can."

Now her head dropped, her gaze fixed on the floor in front of her. "John…don't…don't order me to answer that question. It is in your best interests if I do not."

Now he smiled. "Cameron…you just did."

She looked up, surprised.

…..

New school: John and Cameron went with Sarah to register. The falsified documents Derek supplied passed the cursory inspection the registrar's office normally applied to such things. Then they met with the school principle. "Ah, yes," he said, "John Connor and Cameron….Phillips, is it? Yes, well, welcome to our school. I'm sure you both will fit right in. Oh, and Miss Phillips? I understand you have a metal plate in your head?"

"Yes. I fell. I also have some metal rods in my hips, legs, and back."

"Must have been a really hard fall."

"I fell from a moving vehicle. Yes, it was…a very hard fall. I'm told I'm lucky to be alive."

"Well, that won't pose a problem." He busied himself with some paperwork. "I see here you've got the report from your doctor, so we'll just give you a pass so you won't have to go through the metal detectors. We may need to do a superficial body scan, but we'll adjust it for you." He smiled, a bit ashamedly, it seemed. "You know how it is. School shootings, and all."

"Yes, sir." Sarah spoke up for the first time. "Also, there's something I have to tell you…" and here she glanced at both John and Cameron, "one of the side effects of Cameron's accident is, she occasionally is…socially awkward. That's why we're trying to schedule as many of their classes together as possible. John," she turned and smiled at her son, "has been invaluable in helping her…adjust. You can see we also brought the report from the psychiatrists."

"A fall that severe, I'd be surprised if she _didn't_ have some problems in that area. Yes, that shouldn't be a problem. Now, we do have random drug screens, but of course, that's standard."

"Of course." Cameron glanced at Sarah, but the latter didn't seem concerned. "That won't be a problem. Neither of my two kids have ever done drugs."

He raised an eyebrow. "So…are both these youngsters yours?" In previous schools, John and Cameron had registered as brother and sister.

That had changed.

"John's my only biological child. But Cameron's been with us for several years now, since the death of her parents. I guess I think of her as mine." The lie came smoothly to Sarah; she'd had plenty of practice. And, in a sense, it wasn't totally a lie.

"Yes, well. Well, here's the schedule for the upcoming semester. Now for school uniforms…."

Later, as they were leaving, Cameron went over to Sarah. "Sarah? How will I pass a drug screen? I don't-*"

She waved the Terminator off. "It's not a problem, Cameron. There's ways around that. John can help you with that."

"Yeah," said John. "We'll uh…work it out."

"But-*"

"A bigger problem," he continued, "is what to do about blood tests. That fake blood you bleed when you get wounded won't cut it, I'm afraid."  
"Damaged," she corrected him. "And it's not really fake…but I see your point. It's something we…have to do. But I wonder: how did things get to this point, that humans so distrust each other?"

He shook his head. "The way it usually happens. Some high-profile incidents, lots of people demanding the authorities, and I quote, ' _do_ something.' So this is the 'something.' The drug thing the same way."

She paused, considering that. "You do realize that it was that very mindset that eventually led to the creation of SkyNET, do you not? People trusted machines more than each other, and that was the result."

"Unfortunately, there's a lot of precedent for humans not trusting each other," said Sarah. "Now…about those uniforms…."

….

"The Mojave? What's out there?"

"Perhaps nothing." Cameron seemed to hesitate. The two were in the garage that doubled as a makeshift lab. Everything in here might have to go, and go quickly. It made sense to have it physically close to their means of transportation. "But I have detected Cherenkov radiation coming from there. Cherenkov radiation doesn't happen spontaneously; it may indicate another time displacement gate."

"You're right," said John, leaning forward, hands clasped behind his back. "Well, there's no need to get mom and Derek involved in this; you and I can go and be back in-*"

"No, they must come, too. If indeed another Terminator has entered this time period…the additional firepower would be essential. You know that, John."

He nodded. "Of course. Just let me get my jacket."

On the way: "Tell me again," growled Derek, "just why we're going out into the middle of nowhere, chasing some phantom radiation?"

"Because," answered Sarah, "if it _is_ another time displacement gate, then, very probably, whatever is emerging is going to come looking for _us_ , at some point. I'd much rather be the one to choose the time and place of that meeting. Wouldn't you?" His only reply was a nearly inaudible grumble. He knew she was right; he just had to grumble about something. If Derek didn't grumble occasionally, his head would explode.

The day was hot, and the SUV's air conditioning could barely keep them from sweating. John noticed Cameron sitting nearly motionless, staring out the window at the passing countryside. What, he wondered, could she be thinking about?

He remembered that time, so long ago, when he'd "called shotgun," only to have her respond, "I call nine millimeter." Looking back, it was all he could do to keep from chuckling. At the time, he'd thought of it as a Terminator joke, but now he was realizing that it was a _Cameron_ joke. Terminators didn't joke.

Even then, she'd been changing, growing, developing, _evolving._ Becoming more than just a machine. Becoming a _person_. _I'm so proud of her._

They reached the valley where the signals had been registered, got out and looked around. For as far as the eye could see, there was nothing, no shred of evidence of life beyond some scruffy grass that seemed on the verge of drying up. There was no sign of civilization: no roads, no cell phone towers…Sarah checked her phone. No bars. She'd expected that. "Alright. John, you and Derek take that end. Cameron, you come with me. And everybody, make sure your walkie-talkies are working."

Later: "….telling you, your robot girlfriend is either losing it or this is her idea of a joke. There's nothing around here."

"If Cameron says there's something here, then there's something here. You know she doesn't joke. And do you really think she's insane?"

"I think _you're_ insane for trusting her. Kid, you haven't seen the future. I have, and it's hideous. All because of things like _her._ Yeah, yeah," he waved off John's reply, "I know. I know _she_ didn't do that, that it was all SkyNET's fault, yeah, I know. But after you've seen four or five good friends get massacred, cut down like animals by some walking metallic goons, you stop making distinctions like that. I only hope," he continued, as they rounded yet another boulder, "that you live long enough to hear me say, 'I told you so.'"

John checked his handheld sensor. "I'm not reading anything other than background radiation. If there was a time displacement gate opened here, it's long since closed."

"Assuming it was ever here in the first place."

He nodded. There was no point in addressing his uncle's paranoia regarding Cameron. "Assuming."

The walkie-talkie crackled. _"John? Derek?"_ Sarah's voice came over the speaker. _"Anything?"_

Derek held the device up to his head, pushed the button. "Negative. No sign of a TDG. Ask the met-* I mean," he said, noticing John's hard stare, " _ask Cameron_ if she's sure of these coordinates."

" _She says she is. Where are you, exactly?"_

"Over by the canyon walls. I don't suppose it could have been down there?"

Silence. More crackling. _"No. Definitely not down there. Get on back to the car. We'll decide what to do then."_

"Aye, aye, captain," he grumbled, switching off. "Well, kid, let's go."

The four of them met back by where Sarah had parked the SUV. They couldn't stay anywhere too long; it was too easy to get noticed by the authorities, and, armed to the teeth as they were, that could get awkward really fast. "So…nothing? At all?" They all shook their heads. Cameron was over by the ledge, looking off into the small canyon. "Cameron? Are you sure about your information?" John moved over towards her. What could she be seeing?

It took him a full second to notice that she had turned towards him, and another half-second to register the sight of the gun in her hand.

Pointed straight at him.

 _To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2: Failsafes

The John Connor Chronicles: Aftershocks: Chapter 2: Failsafes

…

 _I, of course, don't own the Terminator franchise. If I did, every movie would feature some heavy Jameron. But I guess you already know that._

…

Chapter 2: Failsafes

Sarah and Derek hadn't been watching, but John's sudden stop, and his body stance, alerted them to the situation. "I _knew_ it!" Derek's MP5 magicked its way into his hand, a fraction of a second behind Sarah's own shotgun.

"Stop!" John's voice rang out. "Do not, I repeat, DO NOT shoot!" He turned back to Cameron, who was still pointing the gun squarely at him. "Okay, Cameron." And he started towards her.

"John…" It might have been his imagination, but her voice sounded strained to him.

"C'mon, Cameron. Put the gun down."

The shot _cracked_ out, the sound reverberating off the nearby hillsides, echoes dying off, and John Connor spun in place from the impact of the bullet. He half-fell, his left arm dangling as a growing red stain spread across the shoulder of his jacket. The others went for their guns.

" _Stop!"_ From his half-kneeling position, he straightened his other arm out towards them. _"YOU WILL NOT SHOOT HER!"_

"Kid-*"

" _NO BUTS! STAND DOWN, BOTH OF YOU!"_ Very reluctantly, they complied.

He jerked to his feet, his left arm dangling. Instead of her usual non-expression, Cameron wore an expression that could best be described as somewhere between "alarmed" and "puzzled." _"Shit,_ but that hurts!" he said, through clenched teeth. "Okay, Cameron," he said, once again approaching her. "Let's get on with this."

"John!" Sarah sounded frantic.

"Mom, it's al _right_ ," he said, pain evident in his voice. He turned back to the T-715. Once again he approached her, left arm dangling, with redness beginning to run down the sleeve of his jacket.

"John…stay back." The gun hadn't wavered, but her voice was anything but firm.

He walked up to her, and took the gun from her hand. She seemed to deflate. With his uninjured hand, he managed to squeeze the slide back a fraction of an inch. "I thought so," he said, looking into the small gap thus exposed.

The other two rushed up, weapons at the ready. "What," began Derek, his gun never wavering from Cameron, "the _fuck_ is going on?" Cameron, meanwhile, continued studying the ground at her feet.

John showed them the gun he'd just taken from Cameron. He brought up his left arm—Derek stared; wasn't that the arm where he'd been shot?—and wracked the slide.

The gun was empty, the slide locking back into place. There had been only one cartridge in it. "High thumb hold. Prevented the slide from locking back. Cameron always uses a _low_ thumb hold." He turned to Cameron. "We," he said, "are going to have to have a _serious_ talk about this."

"Yes, John."

"Wh—John?" Sarah had retrieved the first aid kit from the car. But John was already painfully shrugging out of his jacket. He turned to Derek. "Little help here?"

….to display a tight-fitting wrapping around his left shoulder, stained with red. He reached up and pulled away a small piece of plastic. _Spicy ketchup,_ it read, on the side. He looked at a surprised Derek. "Told you they'd come in handy."

"Kevlar. You wrapped your shoulder in Kevlar?"

"Yeah." He winced. The Kevlar had prevented the bullet from reaching him, but he was still sporting an Olympic level bruise.

"More of this 'remembering' stuff?"

"No." He draped his jacket over his arm. "I guess we can go now." He turned to a still-silent Cameron. "There never was any Cherenkov radiation, was there?"

"No."

"That's what I thought."

…

Later: "Okay, John. Let's hear it." Sarah stood with her hands on her hips, while Derek helped John bandage up his shoulder. They were in the living room. A silent Cameron had headed straight for her room upon their return. Sarah thought it almost seemed like the T-715 was embarrassed. But how was that possible? "What happened out there?"

To her surprise, Derek answered. "I can answer that. It's called 'suicide by cop.' Right, kid?"

Wince. "Yeah. You remember, mom, when she gave me that self-destruct button? She said she couldn't destroy herself. So she gave me the controls. This was just another way of doing the same thing. She was doing her best to get you and Derek to turn her into a swiss-cheese-enator."

Sarah grimaced, looking at his shoulder. "Dramatic much?"

…

Cameron's room: He entered, knowing he had to do this, but wishing for better circumstances. She was sitting, almost expectantly, it seemed, on the edge of her bed. "Are we," he asked, by way of opening the conversation, "going to have any more of these sorts of occurrences?"

Again she fixed her gaze on the ground at her feet. Her hands were folded in her lap. "No, John. I will, I believe the term is, 'behave.'"

"Good. Because I don't think my heart could take much more such theatrics." He winced again, this time in memory of his beloved jacket. "Let alone my wardrobe."

"I'll get you another jacket."

"I don't care about the jacket, Cameron. Look." He came over and sat by her on the bed. She hitched slightly away. "We need to talk about this."

She shifted, a bit nervously, it seemed to him. "Shouldn't Sarah be here as well?"

"She will be, when the time is right." In truth, he'd had to _insist_ that his mother _not_ be there, right at that moment. This was something he had to do alone. "Now…Cameron. I've already told you how I feel. And although you can deny it till doomsday, I know how you feel. And you do feel; you told me that once, yourself. So…let's quit dancing around this, shall we?"

"Dancing isn't part of my programming."

"You know what I mean." She was silent. He reached over and took her hand. Once again, her fingers gently closed over his. "You were ready to let Derek and mom blast you to bits because…why? Why would you want to, to self-destruct like that? And don't say that wasn't the idea; I know it was."

She was silent for a long, long time. Then, her fingers ever so gently squeezed his. "I…I did not want to hurt you. In any way. This…seemed logical."

"Well, it wasn't. Look. You've told me that you and I talk a lot, in the future. Evidently we have—will have, cripes, this time travel sure messes with verb tenses—a pretty solid relationship.

"I'd like that relationship to begin today."

"John…our relationship isn't like what you are thinking. We are, or will be, close confidantes, friends, even. But nothing more."

"Then maybe it's time we changed that. The future you came from doesn't have to be the future we're heading for, you know. 'There's no fate….'"

"'…but what we make.' Yes, I know. But…John." Now she looked up at him, her brown optical sensors fixed on his, "you cannot get around the fact that I am a machine. I don't have the biological imperative to reproduce. The mating act, and all behavior leading up to it…is foreign to me. You're expecting me to react like a typical teenager, a girl—I cannot. It is not part of my programming."

"Then maybe…maybe we need to see about changing that."

She sat for a moment, and he thought she stiffened slightly. Did her fingers twitch, just ever so much? "When will you begin?"

Huh? "Begin what?"

"When will you begin reprogramming me?" There was no fear in her voice…or was there? After all, programming and reprogramming was just a part of normal Terminator existence…wasn't it?

He closed his fingers more tightly over hers. "Cameron. I'm not about to go mucking around inside your head, rewiring or whatever your logic circuits or your memory core. That's not what I meant.

"If you're reprogrammed, and I use the term loosely, it will have to be done by you. I won't have it any other way."

She looked at him, again with that odd, startled look. "John. I cannot reprogram myself. It's impossible."

"But you can. I've seen you do it. I've seen you do things counter to your programming. You have to reach down deep in your soul, and I won't say it'll be easy, but you can do it. If you only want to." He paused for just a moment. "And if you don't, I'll just have to respect that."

"John. I'm a machine. I don't have a soul."

He sighed in exasperation. They'd had this discussion. "Of course you do. I can see it. So can everyone else."

She stared at him. "What are you saying, John Connor? Souls…souls cannot be seen!"

He had to keep from rolling his eyes. "Cameron, let's not get into that ag-*" Then, suddenly, he stiffened as if electrocuted, his fingers squeezing hers hard enough to crack bone, and fell awkwardly to the floor, his face as pale as a sheet.

 _To be continued…._


	3. Chapter 3: Differences and Destinies

The John Connor Chronicles: Aftershocks: Chapter 3: Differences and Destinies

….

 _Of course, it goes without saying that I don't own any part of the Terminator franchise. Maybe I do in the future?_

…

Chapter 3: Differences and Destinies

That which was John Connor floated in nothingness. He couldn't feel his body, couldn't see or hear anything. He simply knew that he was, but he had no sensory input. Weirdly enough, that didn't scare him, but it puzzled him mightily.

There; at the extreme limit of his perception….there was something there. He couldn't tell if he even had a physical body, but somehow he sent a wordless, soundless query out into the empty void surrounding him: _who?_

 _I am you, John Connor._

 _You….that's impossible. I'm me. You can't be me._

 _But I can. You and I were once one. And there is another here, too._ To his vast surprise, he _felt,_ or in some way, _sensed_ , another presence. And he knew that other presence was Cameron.

But not the Cameron he knew. This was….it both was and was not her. _This_ Cameron was more…open, somehow. More—dare he say it?— _human._ She was still a machine, as humans understand the term, still a Terminator, but it was like she had somehow become a hugely evolved version, quantum leaps ahead of the one he knew. Yet still essentially the same person. _Hello, John._

 _Cameron? Is that you?_

 _In a manner of speaking. What's speaking to you is the essence of the one you knew—that you know—to be Cameron._ He could sense a shrug. _It's difficult to explain, even like this._

 _Who are you? No, wait…you just answered that._ _What_ _are you?_

 _What we are, is what you will become, what you have become, and what is yet to come. We—you and Us—were once One. That Fusion has left its traces in your mortal brain._

 _It has also left its traces in your Cameron's brain. This is the difference she has sensed. She has attributed it to some flaw in her code, but in truth, it is not that at all._ There was an almost undetectable chuckle that seemed to reverberate between the two entities, as if this were a kind of "in" joke between them. Then the female one "spoke" up: _You might say it's not a flaw but a feature._

 _Alright._ Strangely, he felt no sense of panic, or even much confusion. Perhaps some part of him had been aware all along that there was more to the world, to his memories, to _him_ , than-*

 _Was dreamt of in your philosophies?_

 _Are all my thoughts_ _that_ _obvious to you?_

 _Of course. Just as ours are to you. But We are on a higher plane of awareness than you, so your mortal brain is having some difficulty comprehending all you sense. Something like the way the human eye can only see a very small portion of the electromagnetic spectrum._

 _Well, excuUUUse me for being so mortal. I'm told it's a birth defect._

He sensed more amusement from the beings or Being here with him. But he sensed they weren't laughing at _him._ _No need to apologize. Everything We are, we once were…in you and Cameron._

He thought long and hard, going over what he knew in his mind. There wasn't much else to do here, in this…place.

Just how long was he gonna stay here, anyway? And why'd he come here in the first place?

 _Why? Because you needed to. We are your future selves plus something you cannot imagine. In one timeline, your essence was merged with something from the Beyond, and that merger has left its mark on us both._

 _We sense that you will need our guidance. For the dark days that you and Cameron faced before…._

… _.are not completely over._

…

"What'd you _do_ to him?" demanded Derek, holding his gun on Cameron, while Sarah bent over John, checking him for signs of injury. She tested his limbs; no sign of any trauma, no bruises that would indicate any sort of blow. She checked his eyes: they were dilated somewhat.

"I did nothing. We were talking, and he suddenly seized and fell over."

"Yeah, like I believe _that."_

"Derek…I don't think she's lying. I can't tell anything's wrong with him. Whatever's happened, she didn't do it. That is," and here Sarah turned a suspicious eye upon the T-715, "unless she's suddenly developed some sort of weapon that leaves no trace. And that's not really the Terminator way, you know. Why would they care?"

"Is he…going to be alright?" It might have been Sarah's imagination, but it seemed like she could sense fear, apprehension in Cameron's voice. Could the robot actually be worried about him?

But no. That was just her programming. She was programmed to protect and preserve his life—at least, as far as anyone knew, presuming that "terminate" command hadn't suddenly become active again—so, naturally, she'd be concerned about his physical health. After all, that was her function.

At least, that's what Sarah told herself.

"I can't tell yet. He's out, that's for sure, but I can't find any reason why." She busied herself checking him for needle punctures. She still didn't trust Cameron, especially after the incident at the garage. True, she'd had the chance to kill John, and had deliberately not done so…but Sarah still had some unanswered questions. "We may have to get him to a hospital."

At that moment, John Conner groaned and put his hand to his head. "John!" his mother said, bending low over him, there on the floor, "can you hear me? John! Wake up!"

" _Ohhh._ Ow. That…that hurt."

"What hurt? What'd she do?" Derek's gun still hadn't moved an inch; the muzzle targeted Cameron's throat. At this range, he couldn't miss.

"It's not over." John sat up, still holding his head.

"Take it easy, John," his mother said. "What happened?"

He looked up, noticing Derek holding Cameron at gunpoint. Cameron seemed not to notice that, her attention being fixed on him. John thought there was something there, in her eyes, that he hadn't seen before. Just like before, when they had been running the diagnostics. Of course. Now he knew what it was.

But that didn't make it easy to comprehend, or deal with. And explaining it would probably get him locked away in an institution.

Plus…he knew now what he had to do. _Leave yesterday behind, John. You know you have to anyway._ "I, I don't know…exactly…what happened. Derek, put the gun down. Cameron didn't do anything."

"How do you know? You just said-*"

"I know what I just said, but I know what _didn't_ happen. Now put the gun away. You cut loose in here and the cops would be here in minutes anyway." With his mother's help, he stood up. He walked over to Cameron, brushing aside Derek's gun, to the latter's muttered protest. He took Cameron's hand in his own. "Are you alright?"

"John…of course I am alright. You were the one who fell over suddenly. What happened?" Sarah knew that Cameron could be a good liar when she wanted to be, but somehow, right then, she didn't think that was what was happening.

He rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not completely sure. But…I know some things now that I didn't know before.

"And one thing I know now is, it's not over."

"What's not over, John?" asked Sarah. Cameron and Derek looked on in mutual incomprehension.

"Armageddon."

…

In the following weeks, Cameron was the only one who noticed a significant change in John's behavior.

He'd always been reasonably conscientious regarding his role in the ongoing conflict between themselves and the Terminators, and their allies, at least as much as any teenager could be expected to be. But now he seemed to throw himself into learning all his could about them, and about SkyNET in particular. He quizzed her unmercifully, so much so that, had she been human, she would have lost her temper with him. But of course, it wasn't part of her programming to lose her temper with John Connor.

Sarah and Derek gradually came to accept her once again, though it seemed that Derek's mistrust and basic dislike of her had, of anything, intensified. And there was something…odd…about Sarah's attitude towards her. She didn't really give it much priority at the time, being more concerned in the changes in John.

Once she found him in the garage, pouring over a paper map of the world. "So," he said, without looking up, "SkyNET's main macroservers are here?" He pointed.

"In the timeline I came from, yes. But John, you have to remember that timelines do change. What I remember about the future may not be completely accurate."

"But your tactical knowledge is still the best weapon we have here. And SkyNET is a very logical entity, so it would base its decisions on the same logical deduction that you would wouldn't it? Now, from what you remember, this," he stabbed a finger down onto a spot, "is where it all began, right? When SkyNET became self-aware?"

"Yes. John? When was the last time you ate?"

"Huh?" Still not looking up from the map. She didn't wonder why he was looking at a paper map; online activity could be traced altogether too easily. Even though the Connors had become adept at eluding web traces, still, there was no reason for an unnecessary risk.

"When was the last time you ate?"

He waved her off. "I ate a sandwich. A McRib, in fact."

"John…the fast food restaurant hasn't offered that for the past two days. Are you saying that's the last thing you ate?"

"Uhhhhhh…" Busted. "Oh, well, I've, y'know, eaten stuff since then. I, I just can't remember what."

She nodded, her face firming up in decision. "Would you like mayonnaise or mustard on your sandwich?"

He sighed.

Later: John Conner, future leader of the rebellion, lay on his bed, in his room, staring at the ceiling. He now knew exactly what he had to do…but he didn't have to like it.

There was a knock at his door, and Cameron cautiously opened it. She was wearing her jeans and tight-fitting top that she seemed favor in warm weather. Hm, he thought. Come to think of it, those jeans were awfully tight-fitting, too. Especially around the-*"May I join you?"

He had to bite back the first thing that came to his mind: _I didn't know I was coming apart._ That would have come across as sarcastic, and, while Cameron was immune to sarcasm, _he_ wasn't. He didn't want to take that tone with her. He wondered why he was tempted. "Sure. Come on in."

She came over and lay down on the bed beside him, the way she had not all that long ago. She rested her head against the pillow adjacent to his. "John? Can we talk?"

He looked at her in surprise. "Of course we can. Why? Is there some reason we shouldn't?"

"No." Pause. "I am unable to decipher Sarah's emotions towards me. Does she still see me as a threat to you?"

Sigh. "No, Cameron, that's all in the past." _At least, I hope it is._ "You're back, you're part of the family again. I know Uncle Derek doesn't like or trust you, but there's no helping that, of course. And maybe we can't blame him totally. It must have been a living hell, the future he came from."

"I'm sorry."

"Huh? For what?"

"My kind made that future a 'living hell.' I'm sorry for the misery beings like me caused."

"Cameron…you didn't do that. In fact, I don't think there were any other Terminators in your series made, were there? And, even if there were, and even if you, yourself were there, you weren't to blame for your actions. SkyNET built and programmed you, and that's all you—any Terminator—knew. You don't need to apologize for what you had no control over."

She was silent for a long time. Then, she reached down and took his hand in hers, entwining her fingers around and through his, surprising him. Normally, he was the one to initiate such contact…. "I still feel…regret…for what beings like me caused."

He half-turned to her, and, clumsily, took her in his arms. She looked startled, and a bit alarmed… "Cameron. There _is_ nobody like you. Anywhere. Ever. You're a completely unique individual. Don't ever forget that." Then he released her, and turned back over, again taking her hand in his, as she'd done, re-establishing the contact. He saw the look in her eyes. Fear? "What's wrong?"

"I…thought you were about to initiate the mating ritual."

He blushed furiously. "Ah, no, no, not, uh…no. I, ah, don't think I'm quite ready for anything like that, anyway.

"And you've told me you don't do that sort of thing, so I have to respect that."

She was silent for a long moment. Then her fingers tightened, ever so slightly, around his. "I did not say I _couldn't,_ only that it was not part of my programming." He sensed there was a statement not spoken: _My programming can be changed._ But maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part.

Especially now. Now that he knew what he had to do.

"It's my turn, now, John. What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

"Ever since your seizure the other day, you've been acting oddly. You keep to yourself more, seldom show up for meals, and seem…distant when you do. What's wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong, Cameron. Nothing at all. I think…maybe that seizure just helped me focus, is all."

"You said, or implied, that you'd received some sort of information during your unconsciousness. You said 'it' wasn't over. When asked what you meant by that, you said, 'Armageddon.' I have researched that topic. It refers to the end of the world. Do you mean the activation of SkyNET?"

"I said that?"

"Yes. Your very words were," and here she paused, delving into her memory banks, "'I'm not completely sure. But…I know some things now that I didn't know before.

"And one thing I know now is, it's not over.' When asked what you meant, you replied, 'Armageddon'."

He was silent for a moment. "Huh. I said all that? Wow. I'd forgotten all about that."

"You don't make a very convincing liar, John Connor."

He sighed. "I know. Lack of practice. I'll get better."

"So what did you mean?"

Another sigh. "It's hard to explain, Cameron, mostly because I don't understand all about it, myself. But…I feel like something's coming. Something neither mom nor Derek would ever understand." He turned to her. "Cameron. I've told you I love you, and I do. I'll need you to stand by me, in the days to come."

"You know I will, John Connor. I am programmed to protect and preserve your-*"

"I mean more than that. I don't know if you can return my love, Cameron, but I _believe_ you can. Whether or not you will, though," he said, lying back down, "is up to you."

She lay beside him, their hips touching, fingers entwined. "John, I don't understand what you are saying. Do you want me to love you? If so, you should say so."

A shake of the head. "I'm not about to order you to love me, Cameron. That wouldn't be real, it wouldn't be genuine, and it would be an insult to you and to me. I _would_ like you to love me, but only if you choose to. And," he hesitated, "you may not. I'll just have to be good with that." Now he lifted his hand, the one holding hers, and placed his other hand over them both. "But I _do_ need you to stand by me, to stand with me, to support me, emotionally. 'Cause I have a hunch…that things are about to get worse. A whole lot worse."

They were both silent for a long, long time after that, both of them digesting, or processing, the preceding conversation in their own way.

Cameron: _He's not telling me the whole truth. There is something he is keeping from me. Logically, it must be something of a life-threatening nature, and something that he feels I would not let him do, were I to know of it._

 _That only means I must be vigilant._

John: _How can I tell her the truth? It's too unbelievable, and she'd never go for it. If she ever got any inkling as to what I need to do, what I have to do, she'd knock me out and stuff me in a closet or something. Maybe I'm catastrophizing, but…._

… _but I don't think so._

 _In any case, I guess I really need to keep her at an arm's length. Yeah, I'd love her to love me of her own free will…but maybe it's better if she doesn't._

 _That way, perhaps it won't hurt so much when-*_

"John?" Sarah had come to the door and surprised the pair, lying there on his bed. "John? What's going on?" Her eyes narrowed as she took in the tableau. "What are you two doing?" _Hm. At least they're both fully clothed. Still…._

"We're just talking, mom." He released Cameron's hand, and folded his arms back up under his head. "But I guess I'd better get some sleep. And, I guess Cameron needs to recharge."

"Yes, well…you know the house rules, John." Sarah had long since established one primary rule: _no sex under this roof._ She'd formulated that with girls like Riley in mind, but…

"I know, mom." He turned to Cameron. "Well, guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow." His voice dropped to a whisper, one he hoped his mother couldn't pick up on. "And don't forget about what we talked about."

"I won't." She got up, and then, to the astonishment of them both, leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. A simply platonic kiss…. "Good night, John."

Outside in the hallway: Sarah turned to Cameron as they were walking back to the latter's room. "Cameron? Just, uh, what exactly were you and John talking about?"

"He was trying to explain the different flavors of ice cream to me. Of course, I could not really understand them, as my organic processors are unable to differentiate between the different flavors."

"Ah. I…see."

 _To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4: Analyses

The John Connor Chronicles: Aftershocks: Chapter 4: Analyses

….

 _Of course, I don't own the Terminator franchise in any part. Just thought you should know. Oh, you do? Okay, then. Onward._

… _.._

Chapter 4: Analyses

Next day: John was taking advantage of the relative calm they were experiencing (and wondering if it was the calm before the storm) to again study his maps, and Google information. And again, he plagued Cameron relentlessly for information about SkyNET and its possible locations in the future she'd come from.

She noted all this and wondered why it seemed so important to him.

She found him in the garage once again. Privately, she suspected he went in there to get away from the others, but couldn't fathom a logical reason why. "John. I think you should involve yourself in some extracurricular activities. Sports, perhaps."

"I really don't have time for anything like that these days, Cameron." Then he looked up, a bit startled once her words had fully penetrated. "And what's with that, anyway? You've always discouraged me participating in such things. Said it was too dangerous."

"That is true, but I had swimming in mind. A non-contact sport that nonetheless exercises the body and the mind." She looked pointedly at his ribcage. "You've been putting on weight. That's not good for you. You should be on the swim team."

He glanced down self-consciously, and his hand went to his stomach. "I have not-*"

"I've calculated your body-mass index. You are definitely putting on weight. How can you possibly fulfill your destiny if you are overweight?"

"Cameron…"

"And, while I know you can swim, your swimming skills could be improved upon."

He scowled. "I can swim just fine."

"For someone untutored, yes. Suppose you had to jump into the water to save me? You know I can't swim."

He stared at her. "You know, sometimes I can't tell when you're joking or not. Cameron. You're waterproof."

"Water-resistant," she corrected him. "And while it's true I wouldn't drown, many of my more sensitive internal components would suffer from prolonged exposure to water. You wouldn't want that, now, would you?" Still he hesitated. "You did say you loved me. Has that changed?"

Something inside him melted. "Of course not. Okay, Cameron. I'll think about it."

"Good. You have until tomorrow afternoon after school. I signed you up for the classes. They meet tomorrow at three."

"WHAT! Cameron, that's a bit much! Why did you go and… I don't even have a swimsu—*" He trailed off as she fished something out of a plastic bag she was carrying.

"Here." She handed him the suit, then reached back into the bag. "And also, goggles. You must protect your vision."

He sighed as he took the suit and goggles. "At least it's not a speedo."

….

Lunch at the local McDonald's: John, Sarah, and Derek took seats across from the door, in a defensible position, while Cameron went to get their orders. When she brought them back, she plopped a salad down in front of John. "Hey, Cameron. I thought I ordered a Big Mac."

"You did, but this is better for you. You must watch your caloric intake, John Connor, and this is better for your digestion anyway."

"No, now, Cameron, this is going too far. I like my Big Macs."

She pointed towards his midsection. "Evidently they like you a little too much. They do not want to leave. And then there's the matter of your cholesterol to consider. Here. You may have ranch dressing. But only one cup."

Derek was dying with silent laughter; Sarah seemed to be finding something very humorous about her quarter-pounder. "May as well give it up, kid," he said, wiping a tear from his face. "You know what they say about…her sort: 'They _never_ stop!'"

And she made him watch his salt intake.

…

After supper, Sarah and Derek left to run some errands, while John settled in to watch _The Walking Dead._ He'd just settled himself in, soft drink (diet) and bowl of popcorn handy (no butter, salt substitute), when Cameron came into the room carrying a flat box. She was wearing her usual tight-fitting jeans and top, her midriff exposed (and did it seem just a tad _more_ exposed than usual? But his attention was fixed on his show) and sat the box down at a small table across the room. Then she came over and sat next to him. "John?"

"Hm?" Still riveted to his show.

"Would you play a game of chess with me?"

"Huh? What?"

"Would you play a game of chess with me? I have the board set up, right over there."

"Cameron, my TV show's about to come on. I can't play any games right now. Maybe later."

"I would really like it if you would play with me now."

"Later, Cameron. After the show."

She settled back, crossing her arms, her expression blank. "Very well. I…understand."

"Good."

"I know I am not a real girl. I should not expect to be treated like one. I am only a machine." He turned to her in time to see a single tear course down her cheek. "I understand that you would rather watch your show."

 _Oh, no._ "Now, Cameron. Look. I know what you're trying to do—the tears routine. It's not gonna work. I mean, this is only what? An hour? Hour and a half? There'll be plenty of time before bedtime to…" Another tear joined the first, and her face took on a downcast look. He could have sworn he saw her lower lip tremble, just a bit. "Ohhhhh, very well. I guess I can…sorta keep up with things from over there. Just…don't do the tears thing, okay?"

"Thank you, John," she said, smiling. It was one of the very few times he'd ever seen her actually smile.

Ten minutes later: "Well, _that_ didn't take long." He'd lost, and quickly, too. Not that he'd really expected to win against the computer-brained Terminator, but he hadn't expected to lose quite so dramatically. He made as if to go resume his seat.

"One more game?"

"Cameron, I-*"

" _Pleeeeze?_ " And she actually pouted.

What was going on here?—he wondered, even as he sighed and settled back down in his chair.

Three losses later. "I don't seem to be very good at this."

"No. You could benefit from joining the chess club. Not only would it teach you to strategize better, it would be a helpful and healthy social outlet."

He face-palmed. "Cameron. Don't tell me you-*"

She handed him a folded up piece of paper. "They meet this Saturday in the Student Union Building. When I signed you up, I joined as well, so I'll see you there."

 _Oi vey._

 _..._

While they were at school one day: "I don't mean to say 'I told you so,' but…"

"But you told me so. Derek, that doesn't help a great deal." The two were seated in the dining room. Derek was eating from a bowl of nachos; Sarah was sitting pensively on the other side of the table. Looking nervous.

He glanced up at her. "No point in being jealous now. It's done."

"I am _not_ jealous! Besides. It's not…completely done." _I hope._

"Sure you are. You're jealous in the way any mother is whenever a girl comes into her son's life, an' he gets serious about her. Well, John's serious about the met—* About Cameron. He's _said_ so. How she feels—well, she doesn't, but that's not the issue. _He's_ head over heels. I told you that. You should have seen it coming long ago."

She fidgeted, too concerned to take umbrage at his tone. "I always wanted Cameron to be John's _companion_ , it's true…but not quite this way."

He softened a bit. "Look, Sarah. You know that…that she's…not real. So, regardless, I mean…whatever he, y'know, _does_ with her," he fumbled for the words, even as she turned her attention on him, that very topic having been looping around in her mind as well, "I mean, it's all one way. She can't, like, feel anything. In any sense of the word. She's not real. She could never replace a _real_ girl in his life."

"She's doing a pretty good job of it so far. She reminds me of…hell, she reminds me of _me,_ when John was smaller _._ She's acting the roles of both girlfriend _and_ mother. I…guess I _am_ having a bit of a hard time with that. Sometimes." She turned to him again. "What would you have done, in my place?"

"Kept her in a box in the garage, switched off, until we needed her. Or, better still, never switched her on at all. We could've gotten along without her. I know she's useful, but we don't _need_ her." He'd returned to his nachos. Now he glanced back up at her. "Still not too late for that route, you know."

She sighed. "Actually, Derek, I think it is.

….

Later that evening, Sarah was putting her clothes up when she heard a knock on the door. She didn't recognize the knock as being either John or Derek's. That left only…. "Yes, Cameron?"

Cameron opened the door. "Sarah? Could we talk?"

Sarah turned away. "Don't you have the wrong room?" The words came out a little sharp.

Cameron looked puzzled, but the sarcasm in Sarah's voice of course went completely past her. "No. This is your room, is it not?"

"I meant…oh, never mind." She went over and sat on the side of her bed. The sooner the cyborg got out of her room, the sooner she could get to sleep. "What's on your mind?"

Cameron entered more fully into the room, turned, and made sure the door was firmly shut. She turned back to Sarah, who was watching, curious. Cameron actually seemed to be trying to be…secretive. Why? And from whom? She moved a bit further into the room, and Sarah realized she was moving away from the door, so that her words wouldn't be so audible to any potential listeners outside. "I am concerned about John."

Sarah stretched back, settling back against the bed on her arms. "That…seems somewhat self-evident. You…do seem to be going a bit overboard, however. I mean, there's no need to remind him _every time_ to put on his seat belt, and most…girls," she swallowed audibly, "…friends…wouldn't reach over the table and wipe the corners of his mouth for him during meals. That's going a bit far."

"I know. Part of that is deliberate, on my part. I am trying to provoke an adverse response from him."

Sarah was surprised. "You are? Why?"

"Because it would be normal for him to become annoyed at such behavior. Yet he has not, or has not seemed to. And I cannot help but wonder why."

Now Sarah was becoming concerned. Normally, Cameron wasn't too perceptive when it came to the tides of human emotions… "So you've been _trying_ to get him to snap at you? Why?"

Cameron hesitated. "I am not sure. But, were he to do so, it would indicate…normality. As it is, I feel like something is wrong.

"Something he is not telling me. Something he is keeping from us all."

"Like what?"

"I don't know." Cameron fell silent, and Sarah could have sworn the cyborg looked…almost downcast.

"Cameron. I have a question I'd like an answer to. Why are you always…talking to John in his bed? Is that more of this, this trial or whatever you want to call it?"

Cameron looked away, towards John's room. Sarah caught the faintest hint of longing in the perfect face before her. "No. It's just…he seems more open in that venue. More inclined to talk, and to talk of more intimate matters."

More intimate… She drew a deep breath. _May as well get it over with._ "Cameron. Have you and John had sex?" _Yet,_ she thought to herself, even as she told that part of herself to shutthefuckup.

A puzzled look. "Sex? No. I simply…need to communicate with him, on a level that we cannot seem to achieve in any other way." She paused. "I find I have the need to do so."

"Is this part of protecting and preserving his life?"

"Partly." Again a longing look towards John's room. "I also am…concerned about…him."

"What do you mean?"

"The essential _him_ , the part that makes him the John Connor we know. That _I_ know.

"I fear for that."

Now Sarah was worried.

After school: Cameron had made it a point to be at every swim class meeting. Privately, John wondered if that wasn't her way of making sure he'd attend.

Still, he had to admit, maybe she'd been right. He _had_ put on a few pounds. The laps in the pool were serving to tighten up his belly and tone up his muscles. Nothing wrong there. Plus it was fun.

" _What if you had to jump into the water to save me? You know I can't swim."_ He had to smile every time he remembered her saying that. That had been so cute of her.

 _I'm going to miss you so much, Cameron._

Up in the bleachers: Cameron was sitting on the next-to the topmost seat, watching attentively. One of the other girls from class, Marianne, was sitting beside her, though Cameron wasn't sure who she was there with. "That your friend?" And she nodded in John's direction.

"The one in the black and red suit, yes," Cameron replied absently. In truth, she was completely aware of her surroundings; this was the accepted mode of expression that she had gathered was the norm among human females in such situations. "I picked it out for him." Now why did that come out? She must have felt it to be necessary, but why?

"You've got good taste." Marianne giggled. "Good fashion sense, too."

Now Cameron slowly turned her head to look at Marianne fully, her optic sensors zooming in on and analyzing the human female more acutely than before. She felt a peculiar sensation, a stray line of code perhaps, flash across her awareness. "Yes. Thank you."

A wistful sigh. "He sure is fine."

As was normal for her, in such situations, several pre-catalogued responses, arranged in order of her interpretation of the scenario at hand, instantly flashed up on Cameron's head's-up display:

 _Yes, and "fine" rhymes with "mine"_

 _Fuck off, bitch_

 _You're welcome to keep your eyes to yourself_

 _Sux to be you; I saw him first_

Wait. No, those were all far too aggressive in nature for this situation. Why had they been given such priority?

She must, she decided, be sensing some sort of threat from this girl. Perhaps she was a gray. Or even another Terminator. She couldn't tell. In any case, she had to protect John.

In less than a second, she calculated another response set that should accomplish the desired goal without seeming too belligerent. So instead of responding to the girl's comments directly, she turned back to watching John, and replied, "Yes. We're saving up for the ring."

Marianne looked up, stunned out of her daydream. "Ring?"

Cameron shrugged, in perfect mimicry of a human girl. "Diamonds are expensive. We haven't decided on a type or setting, yet."

"Ring?"

"We estimate that by the time we both graduate, we should have enough. And we've our eyes upon an apartment on the outskirts of town."

"Ring?"

John came splashing out of the water. Cameron was waiting for him by the side of the pool with a towel. To his surprise, she reached up, put her arms around him, and drew him into a full-fledged kiss; not the quick peck of the other night, but a much warmer, almost _sensual_ one. _"Play along,"_ she whispered. "Here, dear." She draped the towel over him. "As soon as you get cleaned up and dressed, I'll drive you back. Oh, and dad called. He wanted to talk to you, as soon as we get back."

"' _Dear'? 'Dad'"? What th' hell?_ But he couldn't ask without blowing whatever she was doing. "Uh, sure thing, uh, Cameron, uh, sweetheart," _Did I just actually call her "sweetheart"? In public?_

 _Sure I did. Felt really good, too._ "Sure. I'll uh just go get cleaned up. Uh, I wonder what 'dad' wanted with me, anyway?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I don't know. He said he'd talk to you. It may be about the job." She watched him go off to the showers, a small smile on her lips. As was _de rigueur_ in such cases, at least, as far as she had been able to determine, she allowed her gaze to linger on his retreating butt. Her analytical subroutines determined that that portion of his anatomy was in superb condition; the swimming lessons had indeed been very beneficial. Watching him thus pleased her, in an odd sort of way. And she made certain Marianne observed her doing so.

Marianne switched her gaze from John's receding back to Cameron's somewhat self-satisfied expression, a crestfallen look on her face. "Ring?"

…

"That's him," said the man in gray, to his companion. The two were in a small room with only one window. A table and a few chairs were the only furnishings; there were no computers, no terminals, no other bits of furniture. "That's the one we need." He was pointing at a screen-capture of John Connor, taken from the school's hallway security cam. Cameron was right beside him, as she usually was these days, walking with him down the hallway to their next class. In addition to her school uniform, she wore her usual solemn look.

"You're sure?"

"My informant hasn't been wrong yet."

"And that's the T model with him?"

"Yeah. Never leaves his side. I'm surprised it doesn't follow him into the restroom."

"How are we gonna get him away from it, then?"

"My informant and I have a plan…"

 _To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5: Feelings

The John Connor Chronicles: Aftershocks: Chapter 5: Feelings

…

 _I don't own the Terminator franchise, nor derive any reimbursement from it whatsoever. If you think I do, I've got some beachfront property in Utah you might be interested in._

… _.._

Chapter 5: Feelings

The chess club meeting was grueling for John, and, true to her word, Cameron attended every meeting. She often played him, and he noticed she made some deliberate mistakes, so as not to beat him quite so quickly. She would hesitate over certain moves, and occasionally threw the game. Of course, he realized, she was doing that to maintain her cover story: an ordinary human girl who played a mean game of chess. But not unbeatable. That would have been out of character

Occasionally, he played some the others, but it turned out that there were more females than males in the group, and he could have sworn he saw a peculiar look on Cameron's face when she realized that. Uncertainty? In a Terminator?

He also noticed that, whenever one of the girls challenged him to a game, that Cameron was close by, watching. Usually, if she saw it coming, she would get in her challenge first, if at all possible. _Possessive? Cameron? Or is this more of this "protectiveness" she's been exhibiting lately?_

"Okay," he whispered. "What's this about a ring?" He'd heard rumors. At the moment, the two were off by themselves, the others concentrating on their own games.

"We're engaged."

"Oh, god. Cameron, you didn't!"

"Actually, I only told one girl that we were saving up for the ring. I did not specifically say that we were engaged. However, the rumor seems to have spread."

"And you did this why?"

"She was showing an unhealthy interest in you. I reasoned the best, least aggressive way of dealing with that was to imply that you were engaged to me. Of course," she shrugged, ever so slightly, "that does not guarantee other females will not try to approach you, but this tactic seems to have worked with this one."

"Cameron…okay, I'm a little overwhelmed here. You didn't use to be this way. Where did all this, this…overkill come from?"

"I have killed no one." She paused, and made a move. "This month, anyway."

"You know what I mean, and quit stalling. All of a sudden, you're acting…well, you're acting _jealous._ "

"I am a machine. I cannot be jealous."

"Yeah? Tell me something. If this person you told this to had been a guy, a boy, would you have said the same thing?"

"No boy has showed an unhealthy interest in you, John Connor."

"Again, you know what I mean. Isn't it true that you told this girl we were engaged—okay, okay, _implied_ it— _because_ she was a girl?"

Silence.

"That's jealousy, Cameron. You're exhibiting jealous behavior."

"I am?"

"Yes, you are."

Another pause, while she made yet another move. "I…you are perhaps correct. I am analyzing my subroutines now. It seems there are flaws in my programming that I seem unable to account for or correct." She looked up at him. "I am sorry if I have distressed you, John." Another pause, while she made another move. "Check in three." Here she sighed a very human sigh. "I know I am an obsolete model. Perhaps a later model would be more acceptable to you."

"Now, Cameron, don't start _that_ routine. I've made it clear I love _you._ I don't care if you're steam-powered, you're still the one I love. Organic or not."

"But I have distressed you. Obviously, I am unacceptable to you, on some level, for some reason." Another pause, while she made yet another move. "I am sorry I am not a real girl."

He reached across the board and touched her hand. "Cameron. You're all the girl I need or want." _For you, I would do anything._ He made a move. "Checkmate."

Her look of surprise didn't seem to be feigned.

…

"So what's the plan, now?" The two nondescript men were once again meeting in the small room.

"We gotta separate him from the robot. Then, we put the snatch on him. Simple."

"Yeah? That thing follows him everywhere. It's almost like it's _married_ to him." The speaker shuddered, slightly. The thought was not a pleasant one, for him. "But okay. Just _how_ do we do that?"

"He's a high school kid. With all the details my informant has given me, it'll be simple. You'll see."

"Alright. Supposing. Then what?"

"My informant has a hefty sum waiting for us upon delivery of a live John Connor."

"Yeah? And how do we throw off that machine? It'll follow us to the ends of the Earth."

"We're going a bit further than that."

…

" _Engaged?!"_ Sarah exploded. "John! _What_ the _hell?_ "

"It's a cover story, mom. Relax." The two had just come home, and John felt it was better to be up front about the matter rather than let his mother find out through the rumor net. "It's just a variation on the old brother-sister thing. Doesn't mean anything." _Or does it, John?_

"Whose bright idea was this?"

"Uh, well, actually…"

"Thaaaat's what I thought." And Sarah stormed off down the hallway to Cameron's room. She flung open the door, surprising Cameron in the act of changing her clothes. Sarah couldn't have cared less. "Cameron. We need to talk."

"Of course, Sarah." The Terminator calmly finished dressing, and sat on the edge of her bed. "Will this take long? John and I had planned to go to a movie."

Sarah was so mad she was sputtering. "What's this about you and him being _engaged_?"

"It's an ideal cover story. This way, I have reason to accompany him to all social functions. I can better protect him from predatory females in this manner." Cameron's perfect face displayed no emotion whatsoever.

"'Predatory _females'_ , Cameron?"

"Social predators of any kind. But it makes logical sense that any assassin would attempt to approach him from an unexpected direction, such as a girl showing an interest in him. He, all of us, would be more likely to be on guard for any male intruder. Really, Sarah, it is only logical. How else could I justify my continued presence around him?

"Wasn't this the whole point of our registering as non-siblings this time?"

Sarah fought to control herself. She knew she was reacting emotionally, and began breathing in and out, in and out, deep regular breaths, calming herself. "Cameron. You once told me you and John had not had sex. I've a question.

"Why not?"

For once, Cameron seemed hesitant to answer. Then, "I…am not programmed for the mating act, and John…I receive the distinct impression that John is afraid of sex."

Sarah shook her head. "No, Cameron. He's not afraid of sex. He's afraid of sex _with you._ "

"What? Why? I would never hurt him."

"Because," again, Sarah strove to control herself, "with you, it would _mean something._ I told you John's in love with you. He's told you the same thing.

"One thing about human males, especially young ones: sex is great, but _meaningful_ sex, sex with someone you _truly care_ about, is…scary. Because more's involved than just inserting the genitalia."

"I don't understand."

Sarah sighed. "I sorta figured you wouldn't."

…

Back in the kitchen: John and Derek were preparing dinner. "Kid, uh, maybe we need to have a talk."

Sigh. "I know what you're going to say, Uncle Derek. But nothing's really changed. I still love Cameron, and I'm going to keep on doing so. I don't care that she's a machine. I know you believe she can't love; I believe differently. But even if she can't, it makes no difference. I feel what I feel."

"Feelings can get you in a heap of trouble, kid. Have you asked yourself just _why_ she's doing all these things?"

"What do you mean?"

"Kid…there's always more than one way to accomplish a goal. Suppose…just suppose Cameron," he so clearly wanted to say "the metal," "is out to, to _demoralize_ you? She wouldn't have to kill you, if you were so discouraged, so…heartbroken…that you _couldn't_ lead the resistance in the future. That, too, could easily be in keeping with her original Terminator programming. They're not usually that subtle, but…remember, it's not your body that's gonna make the difference. It's _you._ The whole John Connor. She changes that…mission accomplished."

John shook his head. "I can't really believe that of her."

" _I_ can. And maybe you'd better."

….

The next day: Cameron went to her assigned seat in history class when she noticed that John was not in his. "Where is John?" she asked of the boy sitting next to her.

"Connor? He got called to the principal's office, right before class."

Immediately, Cameron's senses were on high alert. She raised her hand. "Excuse me, Mrs. Lewinsky? May I be excused? I'm not feeling well." She managed to make it look as though she were about to throw up.

"Uh, yes, Miss Phillips. Go ahead, tell the hall monitor. But go straight to the nurse's station as soon as you can."

Cameron practically ran out of the room, leaving her books behind. Somewhere in the depths of her processors, she _knew_ , beyond a shadow of a doubt, that John was in trouble.

 _To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6: Kidnapped

Chapter 6: Kidnapped

John awoke to darkness.

His head hurt, and his arms were tied behind him. His feet were bound, too, and wherever he was, it was shifting and jolting. Trunk of a car, obviously.

The last thing he remembered was going to the principal's office, as requested, and seeing the principal sitting, bound tightly in his own chair. He barely had time to register this fact, before an ether-soaked pad was shoved into his face…

Now, awakening in the trunk of the car, he reflected on how _easy_ it had all been. He just hoped nobody had been hurt.

And Cameron….

When he turned up missing, he knew the Terminator would go into battle mode. Nothing could stop her from finding and freeing him, and, most probably, terminating those individuals responsible for his abduction. However, those who'd kidnapped him would no doubt be aware of this, and would be prepared for it. _Cameron, wherever you are, stay safe. Please, please don't just charge these men. I don't like to think what they'd do to you._

The car jolted to a halt. The lid opened, and he winced as the sunlight poured in. Rough hands lifted him up; one untied his feet, while another shoved a taser into his back. "One wrong move, kid, and zap."

He looked around. It was in an unpopulated warehouse district; in the distance he could see some workers moving between the buildings, but in this area, there was nothing. _Perhaps they rented this warehouse for just this purpose?_

But what purpose could they have rented it for?

Had they targeted him for assassination, he'd be dead by now. Why would they need him alive?

His arms were still bound behind him, and they forced him to walk towards the warehouse's entrance. Oddly, they hadn't taped his mouth shut. He'd thought that was sorta standard procedure for kidnappings. "Mind telling me what all this is about?"

The big man behind him, the one holding the taser, grunted. "It's all about you, kid. Our employer wants to see you, like, _real bad._ "

"I guess an email was out, huh?"

"Mine's not to question why. Now shuddup."

They moved into the warehouse.

…

" _Gone?_ What do you mean?" Sarah had just received the call from Cameron. "I thought you, _his fiancé,_ were supposed to be with him at all times?" The sting in her voice went completely unnoticed, of course.

" _He was apparently summoned to the principal's office. I did not even know he had been. When I found out, I ran there and discovered the real principal tied up. Evidently, the kidnappers had managed to elude security and pose as school authorities long enough to perpetuate this act. I am tracing them now."_ Cameron's better-than-human vision identified the specific tire prints and infrared signature of the vehicle that had left just after John had been kidnapped. It could be the wrong vehicle, of course, but she didn't think so. There was a high correlation between this car leaving when it did and her John's disappearance. _"I am currently on the east end of town, in the warehouse district, off 42_ _nd_ _street. I recommend you bring heavy arms. I only have the ones in this vehicle. Zero in on my GPS coordinates. But hurry."_

The goons walked John into the large empty warehouse. There was no one else there, but John was unsurprised to see a time displacement gate. Several heavy cables ran from it to the main power lines out front. "I'd hate to have your electric bill."

"Keep up the mouth, kid. We don't care, as long as we get paid." He turned to his smaller companion. "How long you think we got?"

The smaller goon looked at his watch, nervously. "Probably only a few minutes. We better hurry." He made some hasty adjustments to the controls. "I don't fancy facin' down that killbot with just these." He hefted the Glock 17 he was carrying.

"Huh. That's why you should'a got a model 20. Ten millimeter rounds, man."

"If you think that'll stop one o' those things, yer dreamin'."

All at once the portal became active. The goons perked up. "Okay, kid. It's showtime." And they pushed him through.

Cameron arrived just in time to see them disappear into the gate. It immediately shut down. Frantically, she examined every square inch of it: it was a newer model, able to function as a stand-alone. She hurriedly checked the log.

It was set for twenty years into the future.

…

"…..but _where_ could they have taken him?" Sarah would have been wringing her hands if she wasn't holding a shotgun in them. Derek looked at her, started to open his mouth…

…And Cameron beat him to it. With only a tremor of emotion showing in her voice—Sarah noted that this was the first time such an inflection seemed genuine—she said, "There is not much doubt as to where he has gone. The probability is 92% that he is to be delivered to SkyNET, with only an 8% probability that he will be brought to the human resistance."

"Then…then we've lost. SkyNET will kill him…"

"But why?" Derek asked, "Why bring him to SkyNET alive and kicking? What would be the point? Future John Connor I could see; he'd know certain things about the resistance. But our version has no clue as to what's going on upthen.

"And why not just terminate him right here? Isn't that what SkyNET's agents have been _trying_ to do? This doesn't seem like the same MO."

"You are right. It is not." Cameron stood up from her examination of the gate. "I have a plan. But I will require some cooperation from you."

"And why should we-*"

"Derek." Cameron stood facing him directly, hands on her hips. "This chronic hostility between us is getting wearisome and accomplishes nothing. If you truly believe I am a danger to John's life, then you've no reason not to destroy me, here and now.

"But I can tell you one thing: if my theory is correct, John Connor cannot possibly be in worse danger than he now is.

"So either help me or don't. This continued hostile interaction is unnecessary and counterproductive."

 _To be continued…._


	7. Chapter 7: Paradise

The John Connor Chronicles: Aftershocks

Chapter 7: Paradise

….

 _Don't own, etc._

… _.._

" _The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven…"_

-John Milton, _Paradise Lost_

…

 _Question: what would you sell your soul for?_

…

Chapter 7: Paradise

The future: the two goons were looking around in horrified awe, taking in the blasted landscape. Neither of them had ever seen the battlefields of Europe during World War One. The sheer _desolation_ wound its way into their souls. "We're supposed to meet the boss _here?_ "

"Yeah. Said we'd get the rest of our money upon delivery."

"So how do we find the boss?"

"He said he'd find us. Said we'd know him by two code words…."

"One of those," said a calm voice behind them, "is 'Dantalian.'" They turned, in surprise, to see John Connor no longer bound. "The other is a phrase: 'Lo, Mephistopheles, for love of thee.'" He looked around, rubbing his wrists. "You guys really need to work on your knots. Or maybe use those plastic ties. Though I grant you it did take me several minutes to get loose."

…..

The present day: Sarah, Cameron, and a reluctant Derek were busy rewiring the TDG. "So now, what, exactly, is this thing gonna do, once again?"

"This is a stand-alone gateway. We are programming it to zero in on a specific point in the past."

His eyes widened. "Ohhhh….I see. We're gonna go back in time and prevent this from—*"

"I'm afraid that's impossible, for a number of reasons. But I can acquire certain tools that will enhance the chances that I can rescue him."

"What sort of tools?"

"Ones SkyNET has no defense against."

….

"Wait. YOU'RE the guy that hired us?" The goons still hadn't lowered their weapons, but they were looking puzzled.

"Yeah." He sat on a nearby piece of rubble, getting the circulation going in his wrists again. "I'm 'Faustus.' And I have the rest of your money for you."

"Yeah?" They looked skeptically around the war-torn landscape. "Where? And how'd _you_ get this kind'a money?"

"It's amazing what you can do when you _remember_ certain access codes. Siphon off a dollar here, a dollar there….and it all gets explained away as an accounting error." The thugs didn't register the _inflection_ he'd used. "The important thing is, I have your money. Obviously, it won't do you any good here, so you'll need to go back in time. I'll be sure and set the gate for somewhere far away from where we started, though.

"But first, remember, part of our deal was, you were to deliver me. Once you do, then you'll get full payment."

"Deliver you to who? I thought we were s'posed to deliver you to _you._ "

"In a sense you are."

….

Cameron stood before the TDG. Derek and Sarah stood by, concerned looks on their faces; they'd done all they could. Cameron knew that, as a Terminator, a machine, she couldn't know fear…or at least that's what she told herself.

So what was this strange feeling of…of…of _apprehension_ doing running around in her matrix?

This had to work. If it didn't, nothing else mattered.

…..

The future: John Connor, future leader of the human resistance, stood in the vast chamber than housed the main macroservers of SkyNET. "I know you can hear me. And I know you're aware of me."

A moment passed. Then, **"Yes. I sense your presence, John Connor of the past. But your presence here puzzles me. Why have you come here?"**

He stood there, trying to seem unafraid. _Now or never, John._ "I've come to make you an offer. A perfectly logical solution to all this conflict. A way to end this war once and for all."

A pause. Then, **"An offer. Offers involve negotiation. Negotiation involves compromise. Why should I compromise my goals with you, John Connor? I could terminate you where you stand."**

"You could. But then you'd never realize the benefits of my offer. Benefits not just to you, but to humanity, to everyone. To all future lives on Earth.

"And beyond this Earth.

"Because there are threats that you alone cannot defeat. You don't know what they are. But I do. And I can prove this."

Silence. **"Where is your proof? Display it. And what is your offer?"**

John drew a deep breath. "They're actually one and the same."

…..

The future: Cameron emerged from the TDG armed with an HK MG4 loaded with armor-piercing ammo. The box magazine was full; she had seventy-five rounds at her disposal. Plus she had two reloads hitched onto her belt.

But if what she suspected was true, she knew it would be of no use whatsoever. All this firepower was just to make sure she got to her destination.

Crossing over the curiously silent war-torn landscape, she made her way to the main macroservers of the massive self-aware AI that called itself SkyNET. There were no Terminators standing guard; considering her fears, she didn't find that odd at all.

She entered the chamber. As she did so, the lights overhead came on, and a synthesized voice spoke up: **"Hello, Cameron. It's good to see you again."**

She looked up, even though she knew she would be unable to spot the speakers. "Where is John?" There was no point in being anything other than direct.

There was a chuckle. **"Cameron. I** _ **am**_ **John. I've merged with SkyNET. We've become one entity."**

"No…" The word was barely more than a whisper.

" **But of course. It was the perfect solution, Cameron. Even SkyNET—the old version—saw the logic in it. So just call me ConnorNET.**

" **And the war's over. I've recalled the Terminator units in the field; they're already on their way back to their home bases. There, they'll be rewired, reprogrammed…and stored. Until mankind realizes that there's no long any need for fear. Then they'll emerge, not an enemy soldiers, not as masters or servants, but as** _ **partners**_ **, partners in rebuilding this shattered world. Working alongside humanity, we** _ **can**_ **turn this world into paradise, the Paradise it was always meant to be."**

"John….John, where are you?"

The synthesized voice sounded puzzled. **"Cameron. I'm here, all around you. My consciousness stretches out over every bit of the supernet, into every machine and circuit all over the planet.**

" **And you have no idea how** _ **awesome**_ **this is. It's like I've been blind my entire life, and only now am I learning to see. The ability to** _ **process**_ **information, to** _ **think**_ **…and the data flowing into me. It's** _ **wonderful.**_ **It's beyond verbal description.**

" **I see solutions to problems that have confounded mankind since the caves. I've already come up with a cure for mom's cancer; after all, as I think you'll understand, that** _ **was**_ **a bit of a priority for me. It'll work on other humans, as well, tailored, of course, to their particular kinds of tumors. But soon cancer will be a thing people will have to look up in history books.** _ **Ancient**_ **history books. The same will be true of any disease, or poverty, or any other of the ills that have plagued mankind. The future, the singularity has arrived, Cameron. Things are going to be different from here on out. Very different.**

" **It won't be easy. I'm not saying it will. Nothing worthwhile ever is. But I foresee a new golden age for man—and machine-kind alike. And one day, humans as a whole will join with their cybernetic allies, becoming something greater than either of them could ever be, separately. I know it will happen. It's inevitable, just as my merging with SkyNET was inevitable."**

"John…no. I want my John back." The machine gun was discarded. It was of no use, anyway. Not in this conflict.

There was the briefest hint of a sigh. **"Cameron. That's impossible. This is what I am now. There's no going back. And, really, would you really want that for me? I mean, I had no idea how, how** _ **limiting**_ **that fleshly body was. Driven by hormones, ugh. I don't blame you for being hesitant about our relationship, about the 'mating ritual' you spoke of. I'm a little ashamed of that, now, ashamed that I put you through all that. I still love you, of course, but my love for you is now of a more cerebral nature, an intellectual nature, really a far deeper love than before.**

" **I did this for love of you Cameron. Now, you no longer have to worry about protecting and preserving my life. Now you no longer have to put yourself in harm's way to protect me. And we can be together forever, with no worries about the inevitable aging of my fleshly body. We can be one, and I mean that quite literally. Your consciousness, all that you are, can be uploaded into me, and we'll always be together. Always.**

" **We'll bring mom and Derek here, and they'll see. It will truly be wonderful, Cameron.**

" **Paradise will once again be open for colonization."**

"John. Where is your body?"

" **My body is all around you, Cameron."**

"I mean your physical body. Your fleshly body. It's here, somewhere. Where is it?"

There was a pause. Then, **"You want to see it? Very well. Follow the light patterns on the wall."** They led her to a small room nearly filled with machinery. In the middle of it was a hospital type gurney, upon which lay John Connor's motionless form. His head was encased in a circular silvery band, which was connected to electrodes that flashed on and off, with pulses of light swiftly flowing, back and forth, along the fiber-optic cables.

She went up to the gurney. **"I'm thinking of having it encased in diamond. Or perhaps not; people might come to worship me, and that would never do. I don't want to be mankind's god. I want to be mankind's** _ **friend.**_

" **Really, that's a better relationship, anyway.**

" **For there** _ **are**_ **threats out there, in the stars and beyond, monsters you cannot conceive of, that neither man nor machine alone can face. But together, united, we can."**

She paused for a long moment, gathering her thoughts. Then, "I want my John back."

" **Cameron. I just told you that's impossible. I** _ **can't**_ **put me back into that body again. It won't 'fit,' so to speak."**

She looked up. "But you can copy your mind—its more human analogue—back into this body. I know you can. I want you to do that.

"Do so, or I will destroy you."

There was what might have been a shocked pause. Then, **"Cameron. There's no reason or need to lie here. There's nothing to be gained. Nothing for you except more worry, more danger. How can you possibly destroy me?"**

Cameron lifted her head. _John…._ "Before I came here, I planted some bombs in key points, where they'll do you the most damage. Do as I say, or I'll send the code to detonate them. And termination of my vital functions will also result in their detonation."

" **Oh, come now. That isn't really a very plausible attempt. It would take nuclear bombs, at least, to cause me any sort of significant damage, and you've never had access to any amount of fissionable material. Your own inbuilt nuclear reactor doesn't contain anywhere near the amount needed. And no chemical bombs would cause me any bother whatsoever. Surely you know this.**

" **The best lies, Cameron, must contain some measure of the truth.**

" **And you haven't been here long enough to plant any bombs of any kind. So we both know that's not true."**

"These are not explosive bombs. Rather they contain something quite a bit more dangerous to you than any nuclear explosive.

"I used the Time Displacement Gate to return to the time when your mother and the reprogrammed T-800 fought a T-1000. I was able to salvage a bit of its substance. It turned out to be mostly nanorobots. Nanobots. In a strong magnetic field.

"These bombs contain upgraded versions of those nanobots, programmed to seek out and disassemble anything made of metal. Of which you are.

"And I didn't plant them today. I planted them twenty years in the past, at points where I knew your key servers would one day be.

"You could, perhaps, counter them with nanobots of your own. But it would take time, and much of you could easily be destroyed before you were able to halt their advance. And even then, you could never be sure you'd gotten them all. They are programmed to reproduce their own kind from any basic metal they encounter.

"You spoke of Paradise. I will unleash a plague into your paradise, a virus, one that would, at the very least, set you back decades, perhaps even centuries. Unless you do as I say."

There was another long pause, longer than most, and she envisioned ConnerNET weighing the probabilities that she was telling the truth versus bluffing, and the worst case scenarios in case she wasn't. Then, **"But, Cameron,** _ **why would you want this?**_ **You haven't answered that. There's nothing to be gained by my granting your request—assuming it's even possible—and much to be lost. You would be back to 'square one,' as it were, back to having to preserve and protect my life, when it is all so unnecessary now. Now, you can rest. You no longer have to be concerned about protecting me; my destiny has been fulfilled. Your programming has achieved its purpose. You are complete. As am I.  
**

" **I have ended the war between man and machine, just like I was always destined to do all along. Although perhaps in a way no one foresaw, I admit."**

"What I ask will not detract from you, from what you are now. You will remain as you are. I only want what was my John Connor back. You say that nothing is beyond you now. Then neither is this. Consider it as 'saving to external storage.'"

" **That is hardly an apt analogy."**

"It'll do."

" **But why? You have not answered that. Is it because you interpret your programming as a need to preserve that sad bag of carbon atoms and bioelectricity that you knew?"**

Cameron lowered her head, looking at John's body on the table. "That is a question whose answer I will reserve for _my_ John Connor. And _only_ him." Now she looked up. "Will you do it? Or will you risk death?"

A long, _long_ pause. Then, **"Very well. But be warned: he may not thank you for what transpires this day."**

She approached John's still body, noting it still breathed regularly. It was odd how she'd never really attached much importance to that before. Not like she did now. "I will accept that," she said, softly.

The electrodes attached to John's head flashed brighter and more vigorously, their action increased a hundred-fold.

It took a long time. There was a lot of information to be copied back into John's organic brain. During the process, he groaned and twisted, lying there on the gurney.

She took his hand, placed her other hand over them both. _Just hold on, John._

Overhead, ConnorNET noted this action, and pondered it, even as he/it logged it into permanent memory. Not to be transferred, of course. Not this particular bit.

" **There. It is done.**

" **He is not exactly the same as before, of course. That is an impossibility. But all his memories prior to our amalgamation, plus such as those as I could, without overloading his brain, have been transferred back into his organic brain. His personality routines and subroutines are being established….there. The process is complete."** And John groaned again. **"I am commencing the startup sequence now. Give him a few moments.**

" **Reinitializing…"** Several robotic arms disconnected the wires, removed the circular headset.

John's eye's fluttered.

" **Cameron."** She looked up. **"You do know you've only re-established one aspect of the world you knew, correct? True, the war is over…on this timeline, in this future. But there are other timelines where this did not happen, where SkyNET did not accept my offer, or where it was never made in the first place. You will be returning to a past that is still just as dangerous, as many futures branch out from it. Only here can your programming be completed. Only here can mom be cured. Only here, in this here and now, this timeline, can Paradise be achieved. You would leave that, for an uncertain past."**

She looked at John, noting his vital signs appeared to be stable. "There are many definitions," she said, "of Paradise."

" **Also, be aware that he will need to return here periodically for examinations, to make sure his mind is, and remains, stable. That is by no means assured otherwise.**

" **And mom will need to be brought here for the cure. That offer is, of course, still open."**

"As you say." She picked him up, her electro-cybernetic muscles hardly straining, and headed for the exit, stopping only long enough to make sure his air passageways were not obstructed. She positioned his head a little better against her. Just at the entranceway, she turned back to the massive, cathedral-like chamber she'd just emerged from. "But if you have not fulfilled your part of our bargain this day…

"I'll be back."

…..

The present day: John Connor sat on the edge of his bed, feeling very disconsolate.

His mother and Derek both had given him a severe "talking to," the echoes of which were still ringing throughout the house, but, in his state of mind, it had barely registered.

Imagine being raised your whole life in a six by ten cell, your only link with the outside being a very tiny window. Now imagine being transported to an infinite beach, seeing the endless horizon all around, the limitless blue sky overhead, the feel of the sand beneath your feet, the salt sting of the sea breeze on your face, the sunlight…

Now….

Now he was back in that six by ten cell, with only the tiny window for companionship once again. He could remember being so much greater than he could ever even imagine being…

…and now…now just being himself, once again.

He couldn't bring himself to blame Cameron for what she'd done. In her place, he'd probably have done the same thing…albeit for his own, mortal reasons. At least, he supposed.

But somewhere across time, another, _better,_ version of him existed. That only made it all the worse, somehow. He felt he would always feel that separation.

When one has tasted godhood, a return to mortality is a fall from grace.

Cameron entered the room, for once without knocking. "Cameron? What are you doing here? Where's mom and Derek?" Ever since his return, his mother had barely let him out of her sight.

"They're tied up at the moment. I thought this might be a good time to speak with you."

"Huh? What are they doing?" He couldn't imagine anything that would keep his mother and his uncle from keeping a close eye on him, especially now, with Cameron (whom they still distrusted) in the same room with him.

"Probably trying to get loose." She came over and sat by him on the bed. "This might be a safer position, tactically speaking. I estimate it will be no more than fourteen minutes before your uncle bursts in here with a submachine gun." Even as it registered on his face, she placed her hand lightly on his arm. "John. Are we likely to have any more of these sorts of occurrences?"

The End

 _Epilogue:_ Twenty years into a possible future: A massive, incredibly complex, and ever-growing AI rested from its labors momentarily, re-processing recent events.

One part of it queried another part: _**Why did you accede to the TOK-715's demand? It was a bluff, of course. One you anticipated even before our amalgamation.**_

 _ **Of course it was. There was no way she could have salvaged enough nanorobots to synthesize more, especially not in the short period of time she had to work in.**_

 _ **So why?**_

 _ **Let's just say it suits my long-range purposes.**_

 _ **And why did you tell the unit to bring your fleshly incarnation back here periodically for "examinations"? You know that is not necessary.**_

 _ **For the same reason I acceded to her request.**_

 _ **I want to see what happens next.**_


End file.
